


Aqua

by Lafaiette



Category: The Shape of Water (2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I finally watched the movie and it's magnificent, Love, Spoilers, so obviously i need to write a short multi-chaptered fic like everyone else now, the rating will probably go up, the urge is too strong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-02 09:31:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13315353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafaiette/pseuds/Lafaiette
Summary: Of Elisa and the river god and their newfound life together.





	1. River

The river he spent most of his long, eternal life in was full of plants and flowers that grew near the edge of the water, of juicy, tasty fish that swam in it, always offering the perfect chance for a meal.

There were shiny pebbles and round, flat rocks that glimmered like the scales of his body. Sometimes he pretended there was someone swimming underneath him, another creature like him, even though he’s pretty sure, after all these long, lonely years, that there is no one else like him, not in his river, not in his forest, not in the oily, murky waters of the enormous, enigmatic stone-made village of the humans.

They’re out in the sea, he and his wonderful mate, Elisa, but he can’t smell any trace in the water, he can’t see any sign in the light refracting through the waves, can’t read the currents to understand where they are. They will have to find a new place to live in, he thinks, and he tells Elisa so, wanting her opinion, wanting to know whether she agrees or not. If she doesn’t, they will find another solution together.

He still isn’t very good at communicating with her hand language, he still doesn’t know many words and signs, but he tries hard, also using his singing, and she understands, she always does, her lips curling upwards and her gills fluttering gently in the lukewarm water.

Even here, even now, colour tints her cheeks red, a shade that always intrigues him so whenever it appears on her face. He caresses her face, his own body glimmering blue and golden, and when she nods and says _Yes, let’s find a new place_ , he chirps happily and twirls with her, watching her laugh silently, bubbles floating upwards the surface of the water.

He tries to describes his old home to his lovely Elisa. He doesn’t know the way back, he doesn’t know how to go back to the tall, large trees, to the singing, colourful birds that would sing with him while flying above his head, and so he can only tell her about it, sad that he cannot share with her the beauty of that place.

To better describe his old river to her, he goes find shiny things and objects forgotten in the depths of this strange sea inhabited by unknown fish and loud, stinky ships made of metal. She accompanies him, copying his movements in the water, breathing like he does, holding his hand and following him into the dark.

His body offers her all the light she needs to see and swim better and he points at round, golden circles, weird translucent beads, silver plates decorated with weird symbols he can’t understand. But they show well what he means, the colours, if not the shapes, he wishes to show her.

He points at those things, gives them to her, and at first she thinks he’s courting her, that they’re gifts, but the ones he has in mind are so much better than those and once they find their new place, he will give them to her, one more beautiful than the other.

 _Home_ , he signs, tapping one sharp claw against a long, transparent, flat surface, one that reminds him of the ones in Elisa’s old den, through which he watched the rain fall. This particular one is perfect to explain to her how clear and clean the water of his river was: he puts some coloured beads under it – red, green, blue, yellow – to show the different kinds of pebbles, fish, and flowers he could find there.

She frowns, tilting her head for a moment, then he sees her eyes widen with understanding and she brushes one of her beautiful fingers across the flat surface.

 _You._ she signs. _Swimming._ She moves the finger across the transparent tile in a tilting motion, similar to the waves, and he nods, confirming with a proud, happy gurgle. She smiles and signs more: _River?_

He nods again, chirping enthusiastically and squeezing her hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss it. But then he sees her face and it’s sad, now, and he panics.

 _Are you okay?_ he asks her, using one of the first signs she taught him in that awful place with the humans who tortured and hurt him. She nods, but he knows her so well, now, and he knows she really isn’t.

 _Elisa_. he signs and then he pronounces her name in his own way. It’s a warm, lulling song that carries within all the love and adoration he feels for her; he presses his face against her cheek, purring softly to calm her down and make it easier for her to explain.

She starts signing, fast, too fast for him to understand, and he can see how afraid and sad she is. _Afraid of what?_ he wants to ask, but he doesn’t know the signs for that. She sniffles, tries to hide her face against his shoulder, but he gently pulls her away and whines softly, watching tears leave her eyes to mix with the water that has been surrounding them for days.

 _Slow._ he says and she sniffles again, clenching and unclenching her hands near her face, squishing her nose and pressing her fingers against her eyes. She hides them from him, unknowingly, and he softly moves the hands away to see her face again. Her mouth twitches into a sad smile.

 _Elisa_. he repeats, brushing his index finger against her cheek and she lets out a small, relieved sigh, which sends tiny bubbles up, floating with their sisters.

 _Do you miss it?_ she asks, much slower this time. _Your old home, your river. Do you miss it?_

He blinks and it takes him a short time to understand her question. Once he does, he thinks hard about it. He recalls the wild flowers and their sweet scent that perfumed his waters, the large fish and their soft flesh yielding under his claws and teeth, the different effects of light on his body, the sound of the flowing river, the quiet freedom and the loneliness that came with it.

He makes an almost outraged sound and shakes his head.

 _Elisa home!_ he signs, gesturing quickly, alarmedly. He points at her. _Elisa_. Then: _Home_.

He watches reassured and relieved as her sad face turns joyous. Tears leave her eyes again, but he recognizes them as good ones and this time he doesn’t panic. He takes her into his arms, swaying with her among the gentle currents, and she breathes softly on his neck, caressing the sensitive ridge on his spine and making him purr happily.

She pulls away for a moment and he whines at the loss of contact, wondering if she’s feeling sad and afraid a second time, but the joy is still swimming in her beautiful eyes and her smile tells him that everything is fine.

 _You_ , she signs, _home._

His body lightens up and he lets out a booming, triumphant sound, embracing her again and enjoying the feeling of her body shaking with laughter pressed against his. He’s sure they will find an even better river, an even better land, to live in. One with even tastier fish, one with beautiful gems and seashells he can gift her, one with even taller trees whose shade will protect their underwater den from the sun’s hottest rays.

An endless river, endless like their life together, in which they will be able to swim, holding each other without fear, their love filling it, up to the edge of the world.


	2. Wave

This new life he has given her feels both familiar and mysterious, like an enigma she can’t still comprehend and find the answer to. She can swim fairly well – although she’s not as good as him and probably never will be – and she’s not scared of the zones of placid, comfortable darkness lurking in the depths of the sea, but the currents and waves feel still incoherent to her.

It’s like the water suddenly changes its mind and goes the opposite way instead of the one she expected and predicted. She discovers there are waves _underwater_ , too, inexplicable currents that gently hit her and firmly push her away from her desired direction. They’re sudden and unpredictable, at least to her; he, her beloved, is part of the water, he _is_ the water and he seems to always know how it will behave.

When he realizes she is having some difficulties, he chirps softly and she understands the sound: he’s telling her everything is fine and that they will take care of it together. The sounds he emitted on the surface become a song in this realm, a warm lullaby that envelops her like water, seeping into her flesh and bones until she can feel it resonate within her, like a second, beating heart.

First, they make sure they are far enough from the city to avoid meeting any fisherman or ship. After scouring the area and making sure no one can see them, he takes her up, up towards the sunlight. They have been swimming in the depths for days, now, and even though she can’t feel cold anymore and this aquatic world is so, so dear and comfortable to her, she finds she missed the feeling of the wind and sunrays on her face.

All around them is peaceful and silent; only they are making sounds, together with the sea and its waves. He circles her, eyes just above the water, playful, and she laughs quietly, trying to catch him. He’s fast and it’s like he’s made of water itself, because no matter how much and how many times she tries, her fingers don’t even come close to him.

He laughs, the same rumbling sound he made the day she first showed him what music was. She considers that their first date, a lovely meal consumed while listening to romantic songs and laughing together, and her heart flutters with joy in her chest, because now he’s free and she’s with him and they can have so many more dates, how many they desire.

He hates the lack of contact as much as her and he soon wraps his arms around her, humming joyously against her cheek. She kisses him and he kisses her back and soon they are swaying in each other’s arms again, her lips following the glowing lines and spots on his face, his exploring and worshipping every detail of hers.

But then he remembers why he brought her above the safety of the darker water and he begrudgingly, but firmly, stops the kisses to point at the empty sea all around them.

He makes a series of sounds, his broad hand making a sweeping gesture to indicate the azure vastness; his other hand is on her waist, a safe anchor, a lifesaver that keeps her close to him. She looks at the sea, trying to understand what he wants to explain to her. She sees only the waves, their rhythm, their regularity, but she knows they could change at any moment and that things are even different underwater.

He makes another sound, long and deep, then takes her hand and starts teaching her how to ride the surface waves, those visible to all, the easiest ones. At first it _is_ easy, especially because he’s guiding her and his sounds and signs help her better understand how and when she has to move her body, legs, and arms. But then the wind changes and the sea changes, too. Her movements become uncoordinated, the waves lap and crash against her, slowing her down, and she loses her sense of direction.

He is patient, kind as always. When she successfully predicts when the next wave will come and where it will take her, he rewards her with a kiss; when she doesn’t get it right, he kisses her all the same, to encourage her and make her relax.

When she finally manages to understand how the surface currents work, the sun is setting and the wind has changed again, becoming colder and biting. They take refuge in the depths and they find a nice, temporary abode amidst rocks covered with algae and marine moss.

From there, he points at the invisible waves underwater, those she cannot learn and whose movements are only signalled by the smallest of bubbles, sometimes by the movement of fish, debris, or sudden changes in temperature.

But by following his gestures, his finger pointing at the dark orange infinity of the sun-coloured sea, and by resting on his chest, within which the very shape of water beats, she is able to catch a glimpse of that secret. She sees the mechanism of this new world she now belongs to, the inner workings and unwritten rules of it - his song and light teach her it all.

She raises her hand and follows his gestures, a series of signs that don’t mean anything in the surface world, but everything down here in the water. She understands and learns them and soon she uses them, too, adding them to her repertoire.

A few days later, when the language of the water doesn’t confuse her as much as before and it’s slowly becoming hers as well, he starts playing again, this time while they’re swimming underwater. She knows it’s a game, but it’s also a way to make her try swimming alone, to see if she can catch him by reading the waves.

And she does: she grasps his hand as he quickly circles her and his proud, joyous song makes her eyes swell with happy tears and she’s proud of herself, too, proud and flattered.

They keep swimming hand in hand – nothing will ever change that -, but she’s become more confident and she trusts her abilities more. She initiates the games, too, and she dares swimming forwards, past him, to guide him instead. He trusts her completely and when she goes back at his side and nestles against his body, he wraps his arms around her, their hearts beating in unison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *listens to Overflow of Love from the OST*  
> *cries*
> 
> Also, the scene where Elisa and the Asset listen to music and he laughs - he LAUGHS - is one of the cutest parts of the movie ;_;


	3. Pond

They find a small island, a sort of flat, greenish field forgotten in the middle of the sea, ignored by the few sailors that decide to navigate here instead of choosing better, well-known directions.

There are some trees and a few bushes, scattered here and there; the grass isn’t very tall, but it’s moist and soft, a comfortable carpet that accepts to be squished under Elisa’s pale feet and the river god’s.

They’ve been eating fish for days, now; she isn’t sure how much time has passed since that fateful night when she was given this new life and left Baltimore with him. Time lost all meaning to her and it never mattered to him in the first place, so she doesn’t know the exact number of days, but she feels it’s probably been more than a week.

She misses Giles and Zelda, his endearing kindness and her strong, protective warmth. She misses his hugs and her laughter, his annoyance whenever a painting didn’t satisfy him, her complaints about her husband.

She misses everything about them, but she knows she would miss her lover much more, that she wouldn’t be able to live without him, that they are bonded for all eternity. She wonders if there wouldn’t be a way for her to contact them, but before that she and her beloved need to find a new place to live in, just like he said. Somewhere comfortable and safe for them, without the constant fear of other humans preying on him.

He’s scouring the island, but it’s so small there isn’t really need to. They can see it’s devoid of any kind of real harm and the trees are high and florid enough to hide them from a ship’s sight, if there were any. Still, he wants to be sure and his protectiveness and concern for her make her smile in a lovestruck way at him. When he notices her gaze, he hurries to go back to her and move at her side, timidly sliding one hand into hers.

_All good?_ she asks and he nods, smiling. He points at what looks like a sort of secluded glade, surrounded by bigger bushes, with a pond of clear water at the centre.

This will be a good place to rest, they decide. It’s a pity it’s still too near the city and not big and varied enough, otherwise it would have been a perfect new home. She secretly harbours in her heart the hope they’ll reach the Amazon. If not the river he lived in, at least the land he was most comfortable in and where he probably spent most of his life, worshipped by the natives, familiar with his surroundings and the local flora and fauna, and far from any real threat.  

That’s her desire: a new home in an old place, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time, and she tells him that, even though she knows it will be difficult – if not impossible – to find the right way.

In fact, he makes a low sound, shaking his head, while sitting with her near the edge of the clear, deep pond, filled with small, dark fish and round flowers she never saw before.

_Far_ , he signs. _Don’t know._

_It’s okay._ she replies, cupping his cheek, because he looks worried, now, as if fearing she is saddened and disappointed by his inability to make her wish come true. _It’s okay!_

She laughs silently and rubs her nose against his cheek, watching his lights come to life, until all his body is softly glowing, the same colour of the sea in the morning, when the sun is hot and high and all life is awakening to spend the new day.

She cuddles into his arms, their feet in the pond, and he rests his head on top of hers, closing his eyes and purring quietly while she watches the different shapes of light in the water, the cute fish swimming around and tickling her toes, the short algae that stuck to the rocks on the bottom.

A sudden idea strikes her and she kisses his neck – near where his gills are, a ticklish zone that makes him chirp and wiggle – before diving into the pond. She grins at him from beyond the crystalline water and he lets out two or three quizzical sounds, his big, gentle eyes watching her intently.

She dives deeper into the pond until she touches the bottom and then she starts gathering all the coloured pebbles she can find, the prettiest ones, the ones that look like pearls and gemstones and like his eyes.

She takes some of the sturdiest algae, too, and then she resurfaces, smiling brightly at him. He makes those confused sounds again, tilting his head, but she puts a finger on her lips.

_It’s a secret._

He may not know exactly what a secret is, but he catches the general meaning of her gesture, the playfulness behind her silent words, and he growls, equally playful, trying to coax her intentions out of her with quick touches similar to pokes, then slow caresses, and finally gentle, biting kisses along her shoulder.

When he realizes she has no intention of telling him, he whines and dramatically falls into the pond, grumbling and pouting even though he rests his arms and head on her legs. At first, he even splashes her with some water, but that doesn’t change the smile on her face and she shakes her head again, making him harrumph.

But then he sees what she’s doing with her hands: twisting and twirling the algae, while the shiny pebbles lie on her lap, near his arms. She abandoned her red coat a long time ago, but she’s still wearing her skirt and blouse, even though they’re now tattered and ruined by the saltwater. She decides she will discard them soon, finally ready to leave the last vestiges of her human life behind.

She’s not an artist like Giles, but her difficult childhood, the war, and her lonely life have led her to develop certain manual skills, such as crafting small, simple things out of malleable materials. Making baskets in such a way was one of the first things she learned in the orphanage she grew up in and the algae she found are perfect for what she has in mind.

He watches her with big eyes, intrigued, following each movement with rapture. Sometimes he stops her and makes her repeat a gesture to see it again and she happily obliges, doing it slower.

As soon as the shape starts to become recognizable, he emits a surprised sound and realization shines on his face, quickly followed by joy and pride. He leaves the pond to sit at her side and speaks to her with his song-like voice, touching the algae basket delicately, as if he fears to ruin or break it.

One by one, she starts putting the colourful stones into it and when they are all in, safe within the green, tight cage, she lifts it and shows it to him, smiling.

_Pebbles for our new home_ , she signs and his eyes widen. If the simple act of crafting the basket surprised him, the intention behind it seems to move him almost to tears and his next sounds are soft, full of love.

She places the basket on the grass and wraps her arms around him, pressing her face against his chest and breathing deeply, drowning joyously in the love they have for each other. One of his hands caresses her hair – it always fascinated him and he knows she likes the feeling of it -, while the other moves to the small of her back, where her skirt meets her blouse.

That reminds her of her idea: she kisses him and he’s about to deepen the kiss and turn it into something more heated and probably involving their private parts, but before that she wants to show this. She giggles silently seeing his surprised face, then she takes off all her clothes and tosses them away, not even caring where they land. They don’t belong to her anymore.

Finally completely naked and free, she slowly sits back at his side and gets back into his arms, letting out a sigh of bliss as she can finally feel his body against hers again. He purrs contently and presses his face against hers, holding her tightly.

Later, they rest in the pond and watch the sun set beyond the tall trees and the placid sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't wait for the novel, I read it's full of exclusive details and I'm yearning for more information and material about these two angels ;_;
> 
> Also, I forgot to say that I'm not a native English speaker - forgive me for any typo and please, don't hesitate to let me know if I wrote something wrong!


	4. Rain

They’ve been swimming in the open sea for a few hours, hand in hand, when it suddenly starts raining, a violent downpour that takes them by surprise and prompts them to go back underwater, far from the lightning.

Elisa is particularly scared of the thunders, for a moment. They are in the middle of the ocean, surrounded by water, and the sky above them is angry; she knows it could be dangerous, that they could bit hit if they lingered too long near the surface, and she eyes the rumbling, dark clouds above her head with worried eyes, clinging to her lover, instinctively ready to shield him.

He makes a reassuring sound and nuzzles her face. He points at the bottom and she understands that he’s telling her everything will be fine if they stay down there. She glances back at the sky, now observing it with curiosity; despite its ominous look and the lack of light it causes, it’s beautiful in its own way and the ripples on the surface of the sea made by the raindrops are hypnotic to look at.

They remain there to observe the beautiful, romantic sight for a while – she suddenly remembers that rain saved their lives, in a certain way, that it’s deeply connected to them and the day everything changed. Even though the sound of the thunders still unnerves her a bit, she can’t help but feel ecstatic and grateful and the sound of the rain doesn’t remind her of the bitterness of that night – when she thought she was going to lose him -, but of the sweetness of it instead.

 _Rain_ , she signs at her beloved, pointing at the countless ripples above them. _I like it!_

Thunders roar in the distance, but the echo in the water feels like an explosion and she gasps, moving even closer to him, if that’s possible. He protectively wraps his arms around her and his sounds are worried, inquisitive. He wants to move his hands to ask her what he can do to help, but he doesn’t want to let her go.

 _I don’t like thunders, though._ she says with a sigh, eyeing the grey clouds with concern, before smiling at him. He still looks worried, so she kisses him – soft, warm kisses all over his face – until he’s glowing blue and his sounds turn into purrs. Her heart bursts with love for him.

The water is getting colder where they are, so they decide to keep moving and find a warmer refuge for the night, which is approaching. She tied the basket around her wrist and the pebbles in it make a soothing sound while they swim hand in hand. She took more algae from the pond in the small island, promising him she will teach him how to woven a basket or something else for their home.

When it gets too dark for her to be able to see, he asks her if it’s alright to stop for the night. He doesn’t want her to be unable to see – apparently he isn’t bothered by the darkness per se, but he’s nervous about possible dangers and she can’t bear the thought of him being suddenly bitten or attacked by who knows what fish or shark, so she agrees with quick, happy nods of her head and he smiles at her, squeezing her hand with a long, rumbling sound.

It takes them a long time before they find a suitable shelter. The sea is way too deep in some parts and not even he is used to that kind of pressure, while in others they can see the sandy bottom, but it’s devoid of any kind of natural or artificial formation that could offer them a place to stay in.

Then, suddenly, he stops and stares at his left, eyes wide. She follows his gaze, scared, but the only source of light at the moment comes from his body and it isn’t enough to dispel the darkness all around them. She tugs at his hand, breathing quickly, wanting to ask what it is, but before she can sign, he gently leads her along and she relaxes, now knowing that there isn’t any kind of danger. He wouldn’t take her with him, otherwise, but she would never let him go alone anyway.

She slowly starts to see what he saw, too: sloping rocks gently descending into the sea, a natural cliff where an old ship lies in its rusty, forgotten glory. It’s inclined on its side, towards the rocks, and half of it is submerged, so they will certainly find plenty of water in it to sleep safely.

She hugs him, smiling brightly, reassured and happy; even though the ship looks pretty old, it feels safe and it will keep them warm and far from the darkness of the deepest sea and the one of the angry sky. He is water himself, but the open ocean isn’t really his home: rivers and jungles and tall waterfalls are and she fears for his safety in this vast, endless pool of unknown water.

He seems to think the same thing, but in relation to her: he doesn’t know what lurks in these unfamiliar waters, there isn’t the flora he is used to here, they are out in the open, both above water and under it, and he is afraid of not being able to protect her.

Even food can be somewhat scarce and he doesn’t know the fish here well, although he can recognize whether it’s edible and tasty or not. Still, he would be way happier if they could find a new, stable home soon, someplace where they can live safely, possibly similar to his old one, so he will be able to care for her like she deserves.

They find a large hole in the ship from where they can enter it. For a moment, Elisa wonders if they will see the corpses of those who lived and worked here, but it seems the sea reclaimed them all, leaving only their abandoned luggage, ruined carpets and rooms, rusty metals, and limpid pools full of moss and fish.

They decide to settle inside one of the lower rooms: it’s half-submerged, so they will be able to sleep there without problems, but the roof and walls are still strong and the storm won’t be able to reach them there. Elisa, always curious, starts exploring the room, but her scaly lover stops her with a yelp and tries to tell her something with his beautiful, otherworldly noises.

 _Dangerous!_ he signs in the end, seeing her surprised face. His gills flutter agitatedly even while she cradles his face and strokes his cheeks with her thumbs. _Let me._

She understands, now. He doesn’t want her to explore the room before _he_ does, because there could be dangers hiding around and he must be the one to discover them first. He nervously inspects every corner of the room, focusing on the ruined furniture only to make sure it’s nothing harmful.

There is even an old, mouldy mattress in a corner, lying in what remains of its wooden frame, and he recognizes it, but he doesn’t pay it much attention for now. Elisa giggles quietly and when he hears her intake of breath and turns to her with curious eyes, she shakes her head and waves her hand.

He chirps at her, insisting, but she smiles innocently at him and sits on the floor, next to the pool of water they entered from. She tilts her head, pretending not to understand, when he chirps a second time. He grumbles, dots of light forming along his neck and shoulders. It means he’s blushing, but he keeps looking everywhere, blushing harder when he hears the peculiar sound of her quiet giggling.

Finally, he is sure the place is safe and he goes back to her, face still flushed blue, and she laughs, taking him into her arms and holding him tightly, her lips pressed to his. His broad hands are warm on her skin, despite the cold waters they just swam through, and she hopes she keeps him warm, too. Her delicate hands caress the ridges on his sides and back, then they move back to his face and he leans into her touch, purring softly.

She presses her body against his, her breasts squished against his lean chest, and she envelops him in her tightest embrace, tangling their legs together and making him laugh with her tickling kisses, that beautiful laughter that comes right from his heart, rumbling like a waterfall, deep like a lake.

His lips touch her face, too, but then he stops and pulls away to watch her with a thoughtful expression on his glowing face. She brushes her knuckles against his cheek, asking what’s wrong with her eyes and a timid, quizzical smile. He chirps, tilts his head, looks at something on top of her head and she quickly pats it, wondering if something is wrong with her hair.

She feels nothing out of the ordinary, though; since her transformation, her skin and hair never suffered from the effects of the salt and water and they are better than ever. She doesn’t even feel too cold like it would have undoubtedly happened, had she still been fully human.

 _What is it?_ she asks, eyes full of fear and worry, because she suddenly fears that he found some faults, a sign of ugliness in her. She signs timidly: _Ugly?_

His reaction reassures her immediately: he widens his eyes and gasps, gills spreading in pure shock. He makes loud sounds of shame mixed with despair, hugging her again and kissing her all over her face, petting her, cradling her in his arms, asking for her forgiveness. He didn’t mean to make her doubt her beauty, to make her feel bad about herself!

 _Elisa beautiful!_ he signs multiple times, hands almost shaking. _Elisa perfect!_

She blushes and beams at him and thanks him with two bright red spots on her cheeks. She soothes his sad cries until he’s reassured that, no, she isn’t sad or hurt and that, yes, she feels beautiful and won’t ever doubt it.

She asks what he was looking at, then. Did he notice something intriguing about her hair?

He touches it with the soft pads of his hand, mindful of his claws. He makes some low sounds, then brushes back her fringe and the longer locks of dark hair, which she used to keep in order with her headbands.

He points at the basket and when she opens it, he delicately takes the firm tendrils of algae she gathered on the small island they visited. She smiles at him and shows him the first steps to craft a second one, but he shakes his head and undoes the work she started. He looks back and forth from her hair to the algae in his hands, then starts twirling it.

At first, he’s clumsy and his claws don’t make it any simpler; it’s obvious he never braided something before, but she knows he’s an excellent, fast learner and he memorized the right gestures the day she made the basket. He’s not making another one, though, that much it’s clear: the shape of this thing is long, vaguely familiar, and Elisa stares at the movements of his beautiful hands with starry eyes and an open, smiling mouth.

Then it hits her and she gasps, eyes filling with tears.

He is making her a headband.

Even though her hair hasn’t been ruined by the saltwater, it still bothers her when she swims and she has been longing for one of her several, elegant headbands to keep it away from her face. But she never thought about _making_ one and now he’s doing it for her, because he noticed the way her fringe falls splat on her forehead and her eyes gets partially covered sometimes.

He takes one look at her head to be sure, then proceeds with the final touches. The result is a bit odd-looking, but the algae has been woven tightly and he put all his heart and effort into it. It’s the most beautiful headband Elisa has ever owned and when she puts it on, her hair finally brushed back, her fringe in order like it used to be during her old life, she bursts into happy tears and hugs him.

He glows brightly and a deep, warm sound comes from his chest as they cuddle in the abandoned ship, her lips mouthing _thank you_ and _I love you_ against his neck, his hands signing shapes of love on her back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love them so much ;_;
> 
> Also, I'm leaving for Edinburgh for a few days, so updates will start back next week!


	5. Waterfall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Thank you so much for all your lovely comments! ; v ;

The storm is over when they open their eyes at dawn. The sea is calm and their hearts consequently are, too. They can’t see any more dangers in it and it’s also empty, devoid of any humans or ships who could see them and hurt them.

The sky is clear, without clouds, and so they decide to explore the ship a little more before resuming their journey. He is as curious as her and he asks her for the name of many items they see in the ruined rooms and corridors, still full of memories, tangible traces left by whoever was here before them – before the shipwreck.

Most of the stuff they find has been destroyed by water, but there are also precious, small things that got a new life from it, just like Elisa: books with their pages and covers full of crystallized salt, similar to gems; little plants that broke the boundaries of their vases and became large, greener, thriving in the humidity; strong wood, once shaped like a bookshelf or a nightstand, now covered with emerald-like moss.

Fish swim around their feet and algae, much different from the ones Elisa found in the pond, cover the submerged walls, emerging stubbornly from the weaker parts of the metallic tiles. It’s a mix between their worlds, they realize, and their souls yearn for a home like this, somewhere familiar for both of them.

But the ship isn’t good: it’s unstable, dangerous, and the metal is cold and rusty. He wants her to see flowers, trees, soil, to feel the sun on her beautiful skin and soft hair – and she wants the same for him, she wants him to find another jungle, another beautiful river. She wouldn’t be happy here, anyway, because her life belongs to the raw nature, too, now.

And so they keep moving forward, hand in hand, the green basket tightly tied to her wrist. On and on they go, stopping only to eat and sleep and make love, and they don’t know where they’re going, but it doesn’t matter. They are together and they know they will find a good home someday. It doesn’t matter if it will take them months, years, an eternity – as long as they can hold each other, time and distance are meaningless concepts.

He grows stronger and so does she. His light is brighter than she has ever seen it and when they sleep at night, embracing each other, she can feel the very essence of water flow within him as she rests her ear against his chest. His heartbeat is the heartbeat of the river, endless and pure, and it always lulls her to sleep.

Then, one day, he stops in the middle of the ocean, eyes wide, and smells insistently the water around them. She can’t smell anything, but he doesn’t look scared, only surprised, and so she doesn’t panic. She patiently waits for him to recognize whatever he found, wondering if it might be food, something special that he particularly likes. The thought makes her blush with happiness, because she loves seeing him happy.

He lets out a deep breath, gills fluttering, and then he wraps an arm around her waist and dives forward, swimming so quickly she barely has the time to cling to him. She doesn’t even have to move her arms and feet: his ability and strength are more than enough to bring them across the water where he wants to go.

She realizes this must be pretty tiresome for him in the long run and that’s probably why he never swam that way before, so it means whatever he found must be extremely important and close at hand. What could it possibly be?

After a short while, she sees it. A dark shape, lying both under and above water, familiar because so similar to countless pictures she saw in books and on TV, unfamiliar because she never saw one in real life.

It’s a tropical jungle - not an island, but a full land, green and red and yellow, chirping and howling and mewling, poignant and sweet, rich and mysterious, dark and colourful. It’s everything she ever dreamed of and she knows it’s part of his home, if not his old home itself. They found it, against all odds, another miracle to add to their list.

 _Old home!_ he signs excitedly when he stops to regain his breath, glowing like a star, a smile on his beautiful, godly face. _Not home, but home! Similar, almost same!_

 _It’s beautiful!_ Elisa signs, happy tears flowing from her eyes and mixing with the saltwater. _It’s so, so beautiful, my love!_

He beams at her after seeing the last sign – _my love_ – and his arms are immediately around her, his song in her ears, a sweet lullaby that comes from his chest, rumbling and deep. He caresses her hair, now kept tidy by the new headband, and she kisses his neck and chin, while the jungle nearby welcomes them with its sounds and joyous cries.

They find many streams and rivers among the rich, florid flora. Elisa catches glimpses of animals she never saw before and he whines happily, breathing deeply the air that he must have missed terribly, touching the large leaves and flowers with the tip of his claws, feeling the wet, dark soil under his feet.

He still holds Elisa’s hand and when he turns to her, she sees that he’s happy because she is here with him, because he can share this with her and show her his old home, the land where he was loved and worshipped, where his very essence, his very nature, were born in, crafted in water and bubbles, given life from the foam of rivers.

 _My love._ he signs, making her blush and grin at him. _Here, safe. Here, new life. You and me, together._

 _You and me, together._ she confirms, her eyes welling with happy tears again. He leans in to kiss them away, his hand on her cheek, the other one on her naked waist. She presses herself against him and they kiss like that, for what feels like an eternity.

The sun is setting, covering the jungle with a blanket of warm colours, and they decide to find a shelter for the night. Tomorrow, they will start looking for a comfortable, permanent home, perhaps a large cave – there were many in that part of the jungle he used to live in – or a large pond connected to many rivers.

Elisa observes everything, a joyous smile on her face. She watches cute, chubby parrots fly by, smells all the flowers they find on their path, giggles silently when he offers her the ones she likes most, picks up all the beautiful pebbles and rocks she finds on the ground and puts them inside their basket.

He picks up more flowers for her and together they weave two flower crowns for each other, following the same movements they used to craft the basket and the headband. In the end, they enter a large valley, hand in hand, white flowers glowing on Elisa’s hair like a lace veil, the same flowers shining on his head like a crystal crown.

There is a roaring waterfall in the valley, filling a deep lake below where the moonlight is reflected in all its glory. The water is so clean and pure she can see everything in it, but even if she couldn’t, she wouldn’t feel scared, because he’s with her and she’s with him.

They enter the lake slowly, one step at a time, and the water baptizes their bond, it marries them to each other even though they have been married to each other since from the start. Probably since from the dawn of time, Elisa thinks, for she feels that this is where they are supposed to be, where and how they were always supposed to exist.

They stop when the water laps at their waists. He looks at her, glowing gently in the moonlight, and his hands move to her shoulders. She brings hers to his waist and they kiss: his lips are soft and her tongue slips out to lick them. He whines happily again, his light brighter, and she wraps her arms around him at the same time as he does.

She runs her mouth across his face and his hands caress her back and chest, touching her breasts and nipples, then going lower to brush against the small patch of hair around her womanhood. She feels him grow hard and her breath hitches in her throat when he presses his length against her belly.

He gently brings her down into the lake and they make love there, between water and sky, their bodies united as one, surrounded by the light of his body and the light of the countless stars in the sky. She comes with a smile on her face, her hands cradling his face, and he spills into her with a long, deep sigh of bliss, his eyes never leaving hers.

 _Home_ , she signs, pointing at him, and he nods, kissing her fingers.

 _Home_ , he signs back, pointing at her, and the river god is finally back home, together with his beloved princess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rating may go up again ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 
> 
> These two are so perfect together, Del Toro gave me ten years of my life back.


	6. Lake

The jungle is more beautiful than Elisa could have ever imagined. Everything is colourful, full of life, full of novelty and mystery – the water cleanses her body and soul and she feels like her lungs are made of the purest air, strong enough to carry her silent voice across the globe.

The search for their home continues. There’s no cave behind the waterfall, much to her surprise and disappointment – after reading all those novels and watching all those movies, she thought there would be one behind every one! -, but he tells her they will find one if she so desires.

 _As long as I’m with you, anything is perfect._ she replies, before caressing his cheek and kissing him. He chirps and blushes, his smile shifting the translucent, blueish scales on his face.

The food here is special, too: he catches birds that land on the ground, unaware of his godly speed and reflexes, juicy fish that swim in the streams and large ponds of this heavenly place, ripe fruits that gravity caused to fall down from the huge branches of the tall, healthy trees.

He’s healthy as well, back to what she believes is his true, full glory. It’s almost like the water whispers and cheers whenever he walks near it, shining as if full of glitter, moving even though there is no wind or no leaves on it. The jungle and rivers themselves, with their respective inhabitants, respect him and Elisa has the strong impression to see the world bow to him, to the holiness he carries within himself, to the power of life and healing he represents.

She is proud and so, so happy. He’s safe, alive, back to his natural habitat, and she is with him. She feels like dancing and so she does, taking him in his arms and twirling with him among the large leaves and unknown, cute bugs flying in the air.

At first, he clumsily follows her lead, but then he learns the steps, remembers what she tried to do that time in the laboratory, when the music was on and he could only accompany her dancing from behind his glass tube. He puts a hand on her waist, gently grasps her hand, and starts dancing in circles, basking in her quiet, joyous laughter, the dimples on her cheeks, her flowing hair.

She thinks she lived this before, maybe in a dream; she distinctly remembers his hand on her waist just like now and a white dress, the world around them black and white, like a starry, night sky. But that was a dream, while this is reality and it’s so much better, so much sweeter, so perfect, and she kisses his healthy scales full of life, his chest beating with energy and immortality, his lips smiling with emotion and love.

They find another beautiful lake near the first one and this time there _is_ a cave behind the waterfall, just at the level of the water, so it’s half-filled and half not. It’s enough humid for their wellbeing, but there are also dry zones where they can place their pebbles and other beautiful things they may find around.

Also, they have the whole lake at their disposal and various small streams flow nearby, in the rich greenery that offers so much beauty and delight. It truly looks like the perfect home.

But just when they have decided to settle there, something happens.

He goes to search for more of the sweet, red fruits that grow on certain trees, because he noticed she likes them a lot. They loathe the idea of being far from each other, even if just for a few minutes, but she knows it will be necessary in some occasions and they should start getting used to it now, even though she feels like her heart is being ripped from her chest.

He will stay away for just a short while, she reminds herself. He’s powerful, brilliant, clever, and agile and she is sure nothing bad will happen to him, not here, not now. He will come back home safely, she knows it.

He hesitates for a long time before getting convinced that it’s going to be alright and that she is in no danger here. They are both worried and nervous, concerned about each other, but they hide it as well as they can for the sake of the other, their love selfless and pure like the water around them.

He chirps and kisses her before leaving the cave, looking back to wave at her and sign _Soon!_ and warmth blooms in her chest, because it looks just like the scene out of a romance movie, one of those she watched so many times before with Giles.

Since she’s here, she could make things more comfortable in their home, she thinks. First, she gets out of the cave and the lake to look for sturdy, large leaves, those that could cover an entire man’s head. She brings them in the cave and lies them in the dry part of it, making a sort of humid, squishy, but comfortable bed.

There is a natural nook just above it and she places their pebbles there, smiling at the sight. The cave will probably get dark when night comes, but he reassured her that his body will be enough to cast light all around, should she get frightened or nervous. She wonders if there are any special mushrooms or plants that can glow in the dark, here. She remembers reading about it, once…

She decides to leave the lake and explores the surroundings, hoping to find something for her beloved. She secretly prays for eggs, because he hasn’t eaten those in a long while and she knows he adores them. She can’t believe her eyes when she spots a full nest on a rather short tree; her heart squeezes painfully, because it’s one thing to buy eggs at the supermarket, another to directly steal them from their family.

But they are so big and round and she can’t help but think of his smile and happy face as he munched the eggs she offered him in the laboratory and, later, in her apartment. She knows how to climb trees – short ones like this one, anyway -, thanks to her childhood spent in the orphanage, where the most wicked girls would throw her shoes and bag on the branches out of spite and hatred.

She starts to climb, slowly and carefully, biting and licking her lips with every step taken. She remembers too late she isn’t wearing any clothes and the humid bark is rough on her delicate skin, it chafes her belly, knees, and hands as she ascends. Still, she doesn’t give up and her hand soon touches the first egg, making it wiggle inside the nest.

Her feet aren’t well anchored to the bark and she falls, but she’s able to grab the nest before plunging down onto the hard ground. She lets out a silent groan of pain and then she gasps in shame and sorrow, seeing the ruined nest laying near her bloody feet. Two eggs got broken, but the rest – four – are still intact, full of life.

Feeling bad and happy at the same time, she gingerly picks up the whole eggs with one hand and scoops up the remains of the broken ones with the other, gently putting them into the water. The little birds growing in them are no more and she hopes their lost life will help other animals survive. It’s a cycle he taught her, when he explained to her why he never kills more than necessary and how life always goes back to life. It took them a while to discuss this difficult topic – they were laying inside a giant, metallic crate abandoned underwater and she will remember for the rest of her life how wise and beautiful he was while telling her of the sanctity of life, signing and speaking his musical language at the same time.

The signs were simple and she didn’t recognize all his sounds, but she understood everything all the same and he understood all her questions and reasonings, as though their minds were linked – their very hearts were an intermediary, a translator, and water was the conduit of that conversation.

Holding back tears – she feels so guilty and wretched! -, she lies only two eggs on the ground and climbs back on the tree to put the nest and the remaining two eggs on the branch. She hurts her feet and knees even more by doing so, but she barely feels the sting of it and the hot blood flowing down her skin.

She finds some dry sticks and a flat, thin stone: she kindles a fire, struggling to do so after so many years – the last time was during the war, when such abilities were necessary even for nurses and volunteers -, and places the large stone on top of it, making sure the flames won’t get squashed under its weight. She fills a concave stone with water and waits for it to boil, delicately turning the eggs in her hands.

She absentmindedly immerses her feet into the lake to soothe the pain of her scratches and cuts; she forgets about her arms and hands, but they don’t hurt as much as her legs, and the pure, fresh water immediately gives her relief.

That’s when it happens: a different kind of pain, blinding and scorching hot, pervades her right foot and she screams soundlessly, instinctively bending over. Then instinct tells her to pull back her legs from the water immediately and she scrambles to do so, tears already blurring her sight.

Something bit her, something with sharp, long teeth that dug deep into her flesh and took out a big deal of it; blood pours copiously out of the wound, dripping onto the grass and her trembling hands clutching the leg.

She can’t call him for help and she can’t put the wound in the water, for whatever hurt her is still lurking there. What if there are piranha here, she thinks with sudden dread? The lake is pretty wide and deep and even though he scoured every inch of it, those fish might still have hidden somewhere or even have a secret way to enter the lake.

She is thinking about this, while crying and moaning in pain, when he returns. He lets out a strangled shout when he sees her and he’s kneeling at her side in just a few seconds, the fruits he found laying forgotten where he stood.

He makes sounds of despair and worry and distress, his hands ghosting over the cuts on her chest and arms and trembling above the bloody wound on her leg. He rests them as most delicately as he can on it and he starts glowing, using his powers to heal her, his eyes locked with hers, filling with guilt and horror when he sees them full of tears.

She sighs in relief as the wound quickly heals – he must be using a great deal of his powers, for it so be so fast, but he doesn’t seem tired in the slightest and his hands move to the bruises and scratches caused by her climbing. He tenderly heals those, too, then he cradles her face in his wet, strong, soft hands, chirping softly, a long lament.

 _What happened?_ he asks, bringing his hands back to her face as soon as he’s done signing.

_Something is in the water. It bit me while I was cooking._

His eyes widen and his head snaps towards the lake. He glares at it, hissing, baring his fangs, and then he dives into it, graceful like a dancer. She gasps, reaching out to him – what if he will get bitten, too? One piranha can’t hurt him, but a whole group of them _can_ and she can’t bear to think him wounded or worse!

She covers her mouth with her hands when a cloud of blood tints the water red, but he resurfaces unhurt – only his mouth and claws are dirty with blood and she understands that he killed whatever was lurking down there.

 _More._ he signs, pointing at the lake. _Dangerous. Must look for another place._

There are guilt and shame in his eyes as he hands her the basket – full of pebbles again – that he retrieved from their cave. She takes it, sighing relieved, then motions him to sit down with her. He immediately does so, but his shoulders are slouched and his lights dim.

 _I’m sorry._ he signs, emitting a series of short, low sounds. _Elisa, my love. I’m sorry._

 _I’m okay! It’s okay!_ she quickly signs, before stroking his face, caressing his shoulders, and finally rubbing soothing circles on his cheeks with her thumbs, doing everything she can to comfort him and reassures him that it’s not his fault.

She signs it to him – _It’s not your fault, my love!_ – and he seems to understand, even though his expression is still sad and ashamed.

He nods at her healed chest and arms and asks, confused: _How?_

She blushes and glances at the tree she climbed, before pointing at the eggs waiting to be boiled. His eyes widen again, then he becomes thoughtful and his expression turns into something infinitely tender, loving, awed.

He gently takes the eggs and puts them into the basket, goes retrieve the fruits he found and puts them inside, too, before cupping his hands into the lake and tossing water onto the still-burning fire. Then he takes Elisa in his strong arms and lifts her up, carrying her bridal style. He chirrups, nuzzles her cheek, and together they leave the lake, heading further into the jungle.

There, he finds a good spot to rest and lies her down, signing: _Eggs?_

She beams at him and starts looking for the right stones and sticks to begin cooking, but then she realizes he has something else in mind, that he wants to say more.

 _I’ll go. Must look for something. Soon._ He growls, playfully tapping her nose with the pad of his index finger. _Don’t go to trees! Rest and eat!_

 _Where are you going?_ she asks, worried, breathing faster, but he comforts her and hugs her, promising her he will be back immediately.

 _No danger here._ he promises, before clasping her hands in his and kissing them. Then he goes, disappearing into the lush vegetation. There was a purpose in his eyes, a brilliant idea shining brightly like a star, and Elisa trusts him, believes in him completely.

She finds what she needs to finally boil the eggs and she watches the beautiful parrots fly above her head while she nibbles one of the fruits he brought her. She breathes in and out, slowly, trying to calm herself and think of good things, not bloody scenarios where he gets hurt or kidnapped again.

Not counting mysterious fish just living their lives, she is sure this jungle _is_ safe, because he moves in it confidently, aware of his surroundings, knowledgeable and wise because he’s back in his habit, in his element. She wonders what he is looking for and the answer doesn’t come late.

He’s back soon, like he promised, and she jumps to her feet and runs to him, throwing her arms around him. He hugs her back, kissing her face and purring contently, and then he slowly steps back, a warm, loving smile on his face.

He raises his hands and shows her something she didn’t notice he was holding: a white _dress_ , transparent, but not really, flowing and soft like cotton, but definitely not cotton. Elisa gasps and looks at him, not even knowing what to say.

He chirps excitedly and moves it closer to her, telling her she can touch it. She does so and gasps again, unable to comprehend what she’s touching. It feels like silk, but it isn’t, it’s wet, but at the same time it’s not. It looks like sea foam, but she can see it really isn’t and it’s not completely white: it looks greenish and blueish under certain lights and she shakes her head, still unable to form any sensible thought.

 _Dress!_ he says after putting it into her hands. _Special. It protects you._ He blushes, his whole body lighting up with timid, bright dots of light. _Gift._

She smiles at him, tears of joy streaming down her face. _Thank you_ , she signs and then she puts the dress on, marvelling at how light and soft it feels on her skin. It’s almost like she’s wearing nothing, but her chest and thighs are covered, protected, like he said. It’s not a human dress, that’s for sure, and she feels more similar to him, sharing another beautiful experience with him, another item that connects them deeply, related to their story.

 _Where did you find it? How?_ she asks that night, extremely curious, while they lie in a shallow, beautiful stream. The dress shines under the moonlight, neatly folded on the bank of the stream.

She watches him smile innocently, his eyes twinkling playfully, and then he brings a finger to his lips, suddenly smug.

_It’s a secret._

Her quiet giggles and his rumbling laughter echo in the clear, blissful night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elisa's dress is based on the one she wears in the official poster for the movie ( ´ ▽ ` )


	7. Droplet

They find a meadow with long, wide streams flowing all around. Almost every inch of the ground is covered with water, sparkling like diamonds, but there are also zones where gorgeous plants and flowers grow, ripe with beauty and fruits.

The tall trees with their large leaves protect the meadow from the sun, which can become quite harsh during the hottest moments of the day. They also offer a home to the countless birds, parrots, and bugs living in the jungle and Elisa knows that they finally found it, that this will be their home as well.

He finds another cave, hidden deep inside the deepest, wildest waters. It’s larger than the one behind the waterfall, filled with algae and bioluminescent flowers that offers all the light Elisa needs. There’s plenty of food all around and even murkier parts that, while hiding no dangers (he made sure of that), can perfectly hide them, should it be necessary.

He tells her he is fairly sure they really are in his old, familiar jungle, although this is a part of it he never visited before and he has no idea where they are, exactly. He remembers the natives, their kindness and adoration for him – the latter always confused him beyond words, but he knew what they wanted from him and he gladly gave it to them.

He believes they are here, too, for they were a powerful people and he knows the cruel humans who came to steal the dark, poisonous water couldn’t kill them all. That’s another detail that proves that he can perfectly understands human language; he heard what Strickland said to that terrible general, just like Elisa heard it, and he understood what had happened to the Amazon natives, even while trapped in the fog of pain and numbness.

Part of Elisa is elated, another is nervous. How would the natives react to her presence? Would they fear her, think she is a danger to their river god? Would they worship her, treat her as a goddess? She is no deity and she doesn’t want those kind people to bow before her – she just wants to live in peace with the love of her life and make sure no one else can ever hurt him.

He reassures her when she timidly tells him this; he feels the same way, because he never really understood why people worshipped him, he probably doesn’t know what a _god_ is and how he is related to that concept, that nebulous figure born from human souls. He just exists, keeps on living, sharing his gift and his kindness with those who need help. He too craves for normalcy, for lazy mornings spent in her arms, for playful games among the tall algae, for long conversations in the deep, warm night.

And they start doing that. Once the cave is filled with more pebbles, a bed of algae and leaves, and many flowers, their new life together finally begins. They explore the rivers nearby, the jungle that surrounds them, they play with the birds and fish, make love in their gorgeous, comfy cave. He teaches her how to swim better and she teaches him more signs; they talk and discuss simple, complex, important things until dawn.

Her dress floats behind her like the flower lace veil she wore the night they got married near the waterfall. It shields her skin from the rough soil when they lie down on it to make love, it caresses her skin when they float together in the rivers and wider streams, it plays with his fingers and hers when they wake up in the morning and the whole world is at their disposal, full of love and light.

She still misses Giles and Zelda, and music too sometimes, but he sings for her and they dance together; she teaches him the steps and they perform in the water, watched by curious fish and long, tower-like algae. Time doesn’t exist there, only their love does, and so the days flow away like the rivers they swim in, then months, then a year, even though they don’t know it.

Their house gets filled with even more things: special flowers they found while wandering farther in the jungle; seashells they collected on the shore; some earrings and bracelets that prove natives really live here somewhere and lose their things in the water.

They used dried plants and petals to colour the walls of the cave – the water has muted the hues almost immediately, but they are still visible and the scaly and flowing shapes remind them of the wallpaper in Elisa’s old apartment, which he came to love as well.

He pets and braid her hair as they sit in their idyllic meadow; he does it with extreme care, mindful of his claws, and he learns how to craft better, sturdier headbands. She has many, now, more than she owed in her old life.

While he twirls and brushes her hair with his hands, she braids flower crowns for him, because she knows he loves them, one of the gifs he most appreciated from the natives. She also cooks the eggs she found on the trees – she always takes only a few of them, never from the same nest, never too often. Sometimes, she crafts things with algae, more baskets for their trips, sashes to carry heavier stuff around their chests, simple, beautiful things like that, that speak of a blissful, divine domesticity.

She doesn’t change further: her gills and legs are strong, now, and she can swim easily, without getting tired, and even keep up with him when they travel far than usual from their cave to explore this part of the Amazon more. She still looks human, her skin is still pale and her face still shows crow feet and laugh lines, although she noticed she doesn’t age anymore.

She is so, so happy for that, because it means she is immortal like him and she isn’t scared of the future. Back in Baltimore, the Cold War weighed down on everyone like a metal cape, stinking of metal, rust, and radioactivity, of bombs and smoke. The future was uncertain and scary – but here? Here the future is a vast, no, an endless ocean of beauty and love, its waves warm and gentle like an embrace, and her lover is there, holding her in his strong, bioluminescent arms.

The world around them is all they need to live happily: the jungle bows to the river god like it has always done and Elisa, even if she’s unaware of it, is equally respected, because she is his mate, his wife, the princess without a voice who saved him and went with him to his old home. She doesn’t notice it at first – he is the one who has to tell her -, but the water starts to help her and accompany her whenever they swim or play in it. She belongs to it, too, now, almost as completely as him and his gift and love burn within her, her heart covered with red fins and scales.

One day, they go for a swim in one of the longest, deepest rivers. It’s one of their favourites, because it’s full of plants and weird, cute crabs live there, hidden and digging under odd-shaped rocks. He likes to tap on their roofs with the tip of a finger and she giggles every time they come out, angrily waving their claws at him before realizing who he is.

They spend the whole day far from their house, chasing each other, finding more coloured stones they never saw before, which promptly end up in Elisa’s basket, something she never swims without, now. They make love there, his lips on her breasts and her hands stroking the fins on his back as she opens wide for him and he gets hard and long for her.

The sun is setting when they go back to their meadow. She gets up, now only submerged in the water from the waist down, and he swims on the surface of the river, eyes peeking out, a roguish, playful smile on his lips, lights glowing all over his sinuous body. She giggles, seashells rattling on her hair like bells, flowers pressed between her breast and dress, the hem of which melts with the water and becomes an invisible, transparent part of it.

He stands up, too, tall and glorious, and he growls and hums deeply, raising a hand for her to take. She does so, feeling life flowing under her fingertips, the strong rush of blood and life and godhood and blue light. She sees droplets slowly run down his cheekbones, his abs, his arms, and she knows they are streaming down her face, collarbone, and neck, too.

They are about to hug and make love in the sunset again, when they hear a cracking noise and his head snaps to the direction it came from. The only thing that comes to her mind in that moment is that there are droplets of water running down the child’s face and hair as well.

It’s a sweet, plump child, no older than six. He’s staring at them both with his mouth hanging open, holding three or four Amazonian oranges in his chubby, brown arms. His hair is stuck to his forehead – he probably swam in the river while they were away and then collected the oranges that grow on the trees nearby.

Her lover makes a low, reassured sound and his stance becomes relaxed, less stiff and tense. He tilts his head, chirping at the child with a nod of his chin, and Elisa knows he’s asking him what he desires.

She smiles at the child, bowing slightly her head, and he gawks at her, his big, black eyes getting even larger and more innocent. The oranges almost fall from his arms, but he grips them harder and closes his mouth, gulping.

He babbles something in a language she doesn’t know and then he places one orange on the ground, near the bank of the river. He looks at her again, swallows a second time, and puts another orange next the first one. He’s offering them food.

Her lover chirps, a smile forming on his lips, and he makes the sign for ‘orange’. Elisa grins at him, then smiles sweetly at the child and repeats the gesture. He looks at them both as if they are miracles emerged from the water, and they are.

Then the river god and his princess sign _Thank you_ , bowing their heads again, and the child’s mouth almost touches the ground. He doesn’t know the meaning of those signs, but he can see they are communicating with him, that they are _speaking_ to him with their hands and face, and Elisa realizes this never happened before, that her beloved never knew how to communicate with the natives and they never dared to approach him that way, too awed and overwhelmed by his powers and divine status.

The child makes a few steps back, never taking his eyes off of them. Elisa’s smile grows, as well as the affection and warmth that already bloomed in her heart, and she waves at him. Her lover chirrups and repeats the gesture, which is known everywhere, a universal sign that this time the child cannot mistake for anything else.

He gasps and runs away, turning his head towards them a few times, tossing diamond droplets all around, before disappearing into the thick, now orange jungle.

 _Child._ the river god signs to Elisa, both still smiling. _Cute!_

 _Yes._ she agrees, lips parting into a white grin. _Very cute._

That night, they eat fish and oranges for dinner and they talk about their sweetness and the kindness the child imprinted on them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is actually an Amazonian fruit called bacuri, which looks like an orange or lemon. Elisa doesn't know the true name of it, so when the Asset asked for its name, she could only come up with "orange" ;_; 
> 
> But yeah, imagine Elisa and the Asset playing with the native kids and let your heart be filled with RAINBOWS AND GLITTER


	8. Trickle

They don’t know it, but a whole week passes before the child comes back.

At first, he emerges from the thick jungle alone, carrying those tasty oranges that Elisa and her river god husband have started to love so much. He tip-toes into the meadow timidly, looking around, and then he stops with a gasp when he sees the river deity stands up from the water to greet him.

Elisa appears from behind him, sliding one hand into his and waving at the child with a happy, sweet smile. There are different seashells in her hair, now, and her dress is shimmering green, a pale, delicate hue that it’s difficult to distinguish from the deep water of the river.

The child slowly approaches them, but doesn’t dare get too near. He bows his head and his thick eyebrows spring up to his hairline when the river god signs _Hello_ to him and Elisa adds _Welcome back!_

The child says something, quick and trembling, and lays the oranges down near the river like he did before. He bows his head again, looking back and forth from the river god and Elisa, then he scrambles back towards the jungle.

There, waiting for him, are the elders and adults of his village, dressed with vines and straw and beautiful wooden jewelry. They whisper to each other, awe and bewilderment on their faces. Some of the men and women start crying out of joy, raising their hands to the sky and towards the river god.

Elisa realizes they are thanking their deities for having brought him back, thanking _him_ for having come back. Words of his cruel kidnapping must have gone around across the Amazon and they’re now celebrating his return, the blessing that was bestowed upon them.

He watches the natives with clear, unburdened eyes, but Elisa can see he is somewhat tense. He slowly moves to stand between her and them, not completely, to avoid obscuring her line of vision, but enough to protect her if necessary. She lets out a long breath, suddenly worried: does he think they would hurt her, then? That they would mistake her for a threat? But how they could do so, when it’s obvious how much in love with each other they are?

Fortunately, she’s right, because the elders look at her with warm eyes and warm smiles and their praises go to her, too. They call her something she can’t understand, in that language she feels so bad for not knowing, and he relaxes, making a short gurgling sound of understanding.

The elders move nearer and one of them, a particularly elderly woman, chubby like the child accompanying her, moves even closer, separating herself from the rest. She’s smiling at Elisa and her mate and she raises her knobby hands as if to hug them.

He chirps and signs _Hello_. The old woman’s cracked lips split into a huge, toothless smile, one of the most adorable grins Elisa has ever seen, and she giggles like a happy girl, clasping her hands.

The chubby child tugs at the sleeve of her dress, saying something while pointing at the river god, and the woman nods, before placing her hand on his hair and patting it. The boy slowly bows his head to help her pat it better and Elisa gasps, because it’s the same gesture she saw her lover and Giles share. He must have seen the natives use it as an affectionate, respectful gesture, understood what it meant, and used it to communicate with Giles.

In fact, her beloved chirps happily and points at the two natives, smiling at Elisa. She nods and when she turns to the old woman, she sees she’s looking at her with the same smile from before, her long, white hair falling around her shoulders like the foam of a waterfall, a silver trickle of moonlight water.

She calls her something that sounds like ‘ _princess_ ’ and Elisa shakes her head, signing, even though she knows they can’t understand her: _I’m not a princess. I’m Elisa._

Her lover doesn’t know the meaning of ‘ _princess_ ’, but he understands that she’s introducing herself and so he points at her and repeats to the elderly woman: _Elisa! Elisa my love. Life. She and me, together, forever._

The woman laughs and clasps her hands again, her dark eyes looking like the sky at night, filled with stars and little lights of joy. She says something to the child – her grandchild? -, then points at Elisa and seems to ask for permission to do something.

Not sure what to do, she leans in and sees she guessed right: the other woman wants to touch her face, stroke her cheek, slowly drag her index finger across her nose, prod her lips, brush her palms reverently over the gills on her neck.

Once she has done this, she lets out a series of awed, breathy words and waves her hands in front of Elisa and her lover, focusing on him at the end of the mystifying ritual. He watches her with curiosity in his big eyes, tilting his head – once again, he cannot understand what the natives are doing, but he can _communicate_ with them, now, and so he does, signing slowly: _Help?_

He nods at the child, even though he can’t see or feel anything wrong with him on the surface. Maybe he’s ill internally? Those were the most serious diseases he needed to cure for this kind people.

 _Help?_ he repeats, nodding again at the child, who starts at the gesture and gulps, eyeing the river god and Elisa with something akin to respect and fear in his eyes, both emotions mixing together until they become awe and confusion.

All the people still waiting a few meters away from the endearing old woman fall on their knees and press their heads against the grass and soil, mumbling prayers and words of gratefulness. Even the elderly woman and the kid step back and bow down, their hands barely touching the water of the flowing river.

Extremely puzzled, the river god huffs and makes a low, grumbling sound, turning to Elisa, who is watching the scene with timidity, wringing her hands, as if she doesn’t know what to say, what signs to shape in the air.

 _Go?_ he asks her, wishing to spend some time alone with her, far from the adoring natives. He hopes they won’t bother them too often, now that they know they live here.

 _Yes._ she answers, smiling, and together they dive deep into the river, disappearing in the murky water full of algae. From down there, they hear the natives cheer and see flowers being tossed into the water and float gently above them. Elisa’s smile gets bigger and her mate smiles, too, his affection for the natives growing. He missed them dearly and he hopes they will understand he needs more time and space to stay alone with his Elisa, now. To thank them, he sings loudly as they head towards their cave, hidden from everyone’s sight, and they hear the people on the surface sing with him and clap their hands, laughing merrily.

They are good, kind people and they understood perfectly their necessities, because they go visit them in their meadow only when it’s strictly necessary or at dawn, when he and Elisa are still sleeping, to leave offerings near the river.

In return, he heals them and their little ones and now he does so while talking with them, signing and singing, and the children look at him with wide smiles and big eyes and the younger ones even find the courage to touch his arm or shoulder.

They are mesmerized by Elisa, too, who thanks them in her own way: with fresh fish she caught all by herself, with precious berries she and her mate found far from here, with colourful woven bracelets for the children, who giggle and shyly touch her, admiring and loving her kind smile and her sweet, dexterous hands.

The elders revere her, too, that much is clear, but they crave to find the key to unlock the secret of the signs she and her mate use to communicate, to talk with the world and respond to it. At first, they are unsure, not wanting to enter what they consider a sacred territory, to misuse what they believe to be a language that only these creatures born from the water can utilize.

But then curiosity and longing become too much and the first one to actually try to learn what Elisa and her lover are saying is the chubby child they first met, who - Elisa learns later - truly is the grandchild of the sweet elderly woman.

One day, he brings them more offerings, watched by the whole village (just forty or forty-five people), and signs what he correctly guessed to be a greeting, the _Hello_ sign. Elisa and the river god beam at him, the latter cheering loud with his musical sounds, she grinning at the child and nodding, green flowers woven between her hair.

Slowly, the rest of the village begins to learn and use the signs, directly communicating with them, better explaining to their god and his princess what they would like them to do, feeling blessed and lucky to be able to understand their replies.

He, in turn, develops a new bond with them. If before he only healed their wounds when asked and didn’t participate in their lives, he now takes part in their existence, protecting them even when they don’t ask him to, learning their names and relationships with each other. He officially becomes their guardian, their protector.

Elisa is part of this rebirth, too. Suddenly there is a whole group of people who knows how to speak with her, who knows her language. Giles and Zelda knew the signs, but they spoke a language she could understand and so they rarely used them. Here, she can’t still comprehend the natives’ language and so they speak through hands and smiles, through shapes drawn in the air and movements of the head and body.

She wants this to last forever, but she knows it would be horribly rude. Besides, she always wanted to learn a second language and theirs, so full of flowing sounds, musical, and free, speaks to her heart and makes her feel even more at ease. It’s the language spoken where the love of her life was born, after all, and she feels it easy on her hands and fingers as she comes up with new signs to translate what the natives say. They help her, drawing shapes and figures on the sand to help her visualize what each word, what each spoken sound, means.

And so, the months pass.

The children become less timid and he brings them into the rivers to play with them, letting them ride the water on his back, swirling around them and laughing with them when they try to catch him.

They run around Elisa, too, all taking turns to sit on her lap and throw their arms around her neck as she tells them stories with her hands and funny faces. They bring her gifts, like beautiful necklaces made of shells and beads, and she wears them all, a different one each day not to upset them.

She and her lover adopt them, they become their children. They bring them to the gorgeous parts of the jungle they found while exploring it together and take them back home at sunset; they play and dance with them underwater and when the village learns that the Water Couple loves music, they make it for them, playing instruments in the meadow until night.

This life is perfect and Elisa is sure not even heaven can be better than this, if it even exists. _He_ is heaven, she often thinks as they rest in each other’s arms and his smiling mouth kisses her face.

But when she sees the elders pat the children’s heads or two friends do it with respect and amicability, her heart clenches painfully. She sees Giles in that gesture and she sees Zelda in the warm, maternal smile of the grandmother. She misses them and she wishes they could be here, too, to see and live all this.

Her longing is overshadowed by the love for her mate and the natives. The very idea of going back to her old life makes her shiver with horror and even if she’s aware that time is passing – she can see it now from the way the kids are growing up and the adults getting older -, she knows this is her place, that this where she belongs and wants to stay.

Maybe she could find a way to contact her friends in Baltimore? She wonders if that would be feasible…

One evening, while eating in their comfortable cave, now filled with many trinkets and little details, he asks her what’s wrong. He noticed the nostalgic look in her eyes and her soft smile whenever she looks at the patting-head gesture or at the cheerful grandma and he wishes to know what he can do to help her.

She tells him, while cuddling against him, and he nods with a knowing expression on his face. He thought it could be related to Giles and Zelda and he signs: _Miss them too. They kind._

 _Yes, very kind._ she nods with a smile. She sees the sudden worry in his eyes and understands what he’s afraid of. _But I’m happy here! So, so happy! Happier than ever before! You and me, together forever: so, so happy!_

He relaxes, visibly reassured, and smiles at her while pulling her closer. He chirps softly while her hand caresses his face and after a short moment, he says: _Will find a way to them._

She blinks, surprised, and asks with shaky hands, because she fears he wants to go to Baltimore to bring them here: _You mean go back?_

_No. Send them message. People here do that. Bottles or boxes or string of people._

She understands he means a message carried along different people with the last phrase and she smiles, touched, at the innocence and kindness of his mind.

He looks her in the eyes, promising solemnly: _Will find a way. No worry, my love._

 _I’m not worried._ she reassures him, kissing him, still smiling. _Thank you, my love._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is approaching! ಥ‿ಥ


	9. Water

In the following weeks, her river god husband tries to explain to the natives what he would like them to do. They understand _contact friends_ and _far, far away in the sea_ , but they have no idea who these Giles and Zelda are. When they learn from Elisa that they live in a city of white people miles and miles away, they shake their heads, sad and mortified, because not even their ways of communication – boxes and bottles and people carrying the message across the forest – could work in these circumstances.

The river god keens and insists, saying something about himself that Elisa and the native can’t quite catch. Since he’s so adamant about this, eyes shining with purpose and determination, they gladly accept to do everything they can.

Elisa, despite the series of miracles she witnessed and has been part of, knows it would be impossible for a small bottle or box to reach Baltimore _and_ be found by Giles or Zelda of all people.  
But, she thinks watching her beloved’s bright smile, Giles said it was impossible to free the river god from the laboratory and here they are, living in peace and harmony in his beautiful forest, surrounded by loving people.

The natives give her paper and a bottle of red paint they use to colour their homes and faces. She writes the longest message she can, pouring all her love into it, and then she rolls it and puts it inside the green bottle her river god found somewhere.

Before letting it go into the sea, by the shore where they are all gathered, he puts it near his mouth, eyes closed, and breathes onto it, his breath fogging the glass for a moment. Then he walks towards the waves and gently lies the bottle into the water, watching it float away with his lights glowing brightly.

They keep living their life with love and clarity, watching the forest and the village grow. She doesn’t know how he does it, but he seems to be aware of how much time has passed – maybe the natives tell him or he deduces it from their changes – and he asks her to write another letter and send it across the sea inside a small box or another bottle. Every time, he breathes on it, glowing like a blue sun, before letting the waves take it.

Two years pass. She is not impatient, but hope burns in her chest like it burned when she and Giles planned the escape. Sometimes she goes to the nearest shore, together with her mate, and they hold hands as they watch the sun set beyond the horizon, a soft explosion of orange across the cyan and azure water.

She occasionally asks the natives to cut her hair when it gets too long. She likes the hairstyle she chose in Baltimore and he likes it, too, curling her dark locks around his fingers, not too long, not too short, and pressing his mouth on them. That’s her only visible change: everything else is immutable, her face, her hands, her smile, their love for each other.

Time doesn’t have any effect on him, either. He’s eternal, part of the world since its birth, endless just like the water he’s made of, the water he personifies. His scales are soft and sturdy at the same time and light shines on them in the most beautiful ways; his lights could illuminate the entire universe, Elisa thinks with awe and adoration every time she watches him lighten up, and their hands now know every secret of each other’s body, mind, and spirit.

They can converse about anything, there are no secret or unknown signs, and when they don’t exist, they come up with them. She learns all of his sounds, too, and his songs and her hands are the lullabies with which they fall asleep.

 _Not worry, my love._ he tells her when he sees her watching the waves. _Hope._

 _Hope, my love. Always!_ she nods, smiling. This is their fairytale, after all, and anything is possible in it. They will keep waiting for their friends for how long it will take and she feels in her heart that that day will soon come.

At the dawn of the third year, the chief of the village – the kind grandmother with the silver hair – goes visit them. She just has to throw flowers in the river and calls for them with her clear, round voice and Elisa and her husband appear, smiling and waving _Hello_.

The chief always replies with a bow, because she respects and reveres them too much not to do so, but she also uses the sign language to say: _Thank you_. Today, her hair is braided with the shells Elisa found for her and her smile grows seeing them.

 _“A messenger has arrived.”_ the old woman says in her language, her own smile warm and excited. _“He said people are coming, with a guide. Tomorrow.”_

 _People?_ Elisa repeats with her hands, her brow slightly furrowed. A part of hers fears that the American government found them, but the chief would recognize bad people from good people and her smile is the happiest smile she has ever seen. She relaxes, then, and asks: _What people?_

Her husband makes a long, high sound of understanding and his gills flutter happily. He chirps at her, smiling, and brushes his knuckles against her cheek. The chief laughs, bows again, and leaves the meadow, heading back to the village.

Elisa fidgets, confused, before looking back at her husband, who is still smiling at her and now glowing. _What people?_ she asks again, wondering if they might help them contact Giles and Zelda. She directly asks that, but her gill-god laughs – that beautiful laughter that makes her belly grow hot and her heart beat faster – and raises a finger to his lips.

_It’s a secret._

She tuts, grinning, and swats his arm, making him laugh again. He brings her into the river, playful and cheerful, and she dances with him, trying to convince him to tell her what’s happening with kisses, caresses, tickling hugs. But he keeps smiling and shaking his head, never letting her go, and she gives up with a silent, bubbling giggle, looking forward to the next day.

 

There is a great commotion in the jungle. They can hear the villagers sing and cheer and Elisa thinks they might have found some survivors of her husband’s old village, the one that tried to protect him when the white humans found him. Rumours of his survival got around and in the past years many other villages and tribes came to pay homage to them, but they said the old natives he knew are all gone. Maybe that was wrong and the kind chief was able to find some of them to make him happy? She can’t say, but whatever is happening sounds joyful and loud.

Then some villagers start to pour out of the jungle. He rests a hand on the small of her back, purring quietly, and she wraps her arm around his waist, watching the small crowd approach. She smiles at him, signing _Friends?_ then pointing at the crowd. _Your old friends there?_

He observes her for a second, gills vibrating, then he chirps and smiles an amused, witty smile. He knows something she doesn’t know and suddenly she understands, she realizes what this is about.  
Her head turns with a snap towards the crowd, the hope she harboured during these three years exploding and becoming certainty and bewilderment. Could it be…?

And then the crowd of people opens wide to let two individuals pass. Giles, tanned and with more hair than she ever saw on his head, grins at her, two fat tears shining in his eyes. Next to him, Zelda stands next to him with a big smile, more plump and beautiful than ever, a gorgeous straw hat on her head and a colourful dress fluttering in the wind. They carry leather luggage and wear comfortable shoes – Zelda isn’t wearing her wedding ring anymore and Giles brought his canvas and colours, placed safely in another bag he’s carrying on his back.

Elisa stands in the river, mouth agape, and her river god husband chirrups and shouts happily, glowing intensely next to her. Before she can react and snap out of it, he sweeps her in his arms and carries her to their friends, calling them with his joyful cries.

Next thing she knows, she’s pressed against Giles and Zelda and then she bursts into tears, wrapping her arms around them. The four of them share a tight hug, illuminated by the soft light of her river god and surrounded by the cheers of the villagers.

Later, Elisa and her divine husband will learn that Zelda left her husband and went living in Elisa’s old apartment; that Giles is writing and drawing a children book about good and positive monsters; that each time they went to the canal to think about that fateful night they found bottles and boxes with her letters in them, carried by the gentle, all-knowing water; that they decided to leave for the Amazon together and look for her and her beloved river god.

They will also learn that they are currently staying in a city far from the jungle – Giles even brought his cats! – and they will stay there, _here_ in the Amazon, for at least two months, ready to catch up with them, to learn about their life, about this place, about Elisa’s transformation that they understood what it was as soon as they heard about the Gill-God and his Water Princess.

But for now, Elisa and her river god husband stay in their arms, purring and crying contently, the water flowing around them like a silver and blue lace tying them together forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finished! ; v ; 
> 
> I think everyone believes that Zelda will finally leave Brewster and go stay at Elisa's old place, it's the best solution for her. I wanted to have such a happy ending especially to follow Del Toro's fairytale-ish style: after swimming through the dark sea full of mysterious islands and abandoned ships, our two lovers find the god's old home, their letters manage to arrive to their old friends, and they live happily ever after... The perfect fairytale ;_; 
> 
> Thank you so much for your loving comments, kudos, and kind words! They mean so, so much to me - I wasn't expecting this fic to become so appreciated and I really don't know how to thank you all properly! I hope you enjoyed this last chapter ; v ;

**Author's Note:**

> I was finally able to watch The Shape of Water and DAMN, it's so beautiful ;_; I've been reading all the fics available here, but I need to write my own to fill my need to see more of Elisa and the Asset. 
> 
> This is going to be a multi-chaptered fics exploring their relationship now that they are free and finally Together Forever. Del Toro said that the Asset has been alone his whole life - just like Elisa has been alone -, that there was never another one like him and that they were destined to meet. I think this is one of the most beautiful, bittersweet characteristics of their love story and I wanted to describe it as best as I could. Let's see how it goes ; v ;


End file.
